


Hope

by chris--daae (AILiSeki)



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 18:16:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11697189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AILiSeki/pseuds/chris--daae
Summary: Christine knows life is not full of happy endings, and angels have more important things to do.





	Hope

Christine was not a child anymore. She hasn’t believed in fairy-tales for a long time. Real life had no happy endings, it was instead filled with sadness and loss and grief. Everything was dull, colorless, soundless.

But when she first heard the Voice in her dressing room, for a moment she could feel again. She could feel. For a moment the beautiful and colorful world of her childhood felt real, and she could see it and hear it in those perfect notes. And joy, a feeling that had left her since her father passed away, joy started building inside her very core. A single tear fell.

But it couldn’t be real. No, someone had to be playing some cruel joke with her. And she felt so angry. Angry at who was trying to trick her, but mostly angry at herself because she let her hopes build in that single moment.

She searched for the Voice’s source. In the room, in the corridor, the rooms beside it… She found no one. How was that? She thought and thought, she looked for any hidden opening that could have brought that Voice to her. She could not sleep that night. Dared she hope?

No. Stories were only that, only stories. She was not a child anymore. She knew that it was impossible that an Angel from above came to her dressing room to sing for her.

Because this was the real world and Angels had more important business than a sad, mediocre chorus girl.

But one week later, the Voice sang to her once again. And it was so easy to get lost in its song. She still could not tell where it came from, and something inside of her told her that it couldn’t not be something from Heaven. Only in Heaven such a perfection could exist.

“Who are you?” Christine finally asked.

“Don’t you know?”

For a second, her heart seemed to stop. Everything seemed to stop. And she had to hold back her tears as she asked:

“Angel?”

The Voice took a while to reply.

“Yes, Christine. I am your Angel.”

She had so many questions. Why did it take so long for her Angel to come to her? Why had them left her endure so much pain for so long? Why did them let her believe she had been abandoned, alone?

And even then, she knew something was wrong. She had prayed every night, asking for anything, any sign, anything that would help her move on. And for three years nothing had happened. Why now? How could she be sure that it was really the Angel her father promised would visit her?

Christine had so many questions. But before she could decide which one to ask first, the Voice spoke again.

“Tell me, dear, why are you so sad?”

And before she could think better, before she could even realize what she was doing, she started telling her story.

The tears fell freely, tears that she held inside for so long, and she could not control her words. She let it all out, all her sorrow, all her fears. And the Voice never interrupted her, but she knew she was being listened to. And it felt so good! Yes, for the first time in those three years Christine actually felt good. Not happiness, not yet, but somehow her pain was relieved a little bit as she spoke.

When she finished, who knows how long it took, she heard a sad sigh.

“My poor girl.”

And she let out a humorless laugh as she tried to dry the tears that were still falling.

The Voice started singing again, a soft melody that reminded her of her childhood. She felt cared for. She felt safe.

It didn’t matter to her anymore who was behind this, or what trick they used. The Voice eased her burden little by little from that day on. And that was all Christine needed.


End file.
